I'd Give Anything
by spentlizard
Summary: Slight-AU, non-canon, pre-Season 3 I guess. When Inhumans begin to populate the earth, it's up to SHIELD to contain any potential threats they may pose. However, they might be mistaken regarding a certain vigilante in New York, who just-so-happens to know one of their members... and her reappearance will shake up his life in more ways than one. (Implied past-Quakedevil, no smut)
1. Alone

It had been three weeks since Stick left, and Matt felt like he had lost the closest thing to a father he was ever going to have. He remembered the overwhelming feeling of loneliness and sadness that came with his father's death, made even worse by his heightened senses causing him intense agony.

Once Stick came in, he taught him how to control and use his abilities to his advantage, effectively helping him overcome his blindness. In fact, Matt's senses became so attuned that it was almost like he could see again. His senses of smell, taste, touch, and hearing helped to create a "visual" image of the world around him, the only downside being that it looked like it was on fire.

But now, Stick was gone, driven away by Matt showing affection towards his mentor. Sometimes he would mentally curse himself for attempting to give Stick that bracelet, because he knew that a hard-ass like him would have never accepted something soft like that. It was clear that all he wanted was a soldier for this "war" he kept rambling on about, but never got around to explaining. Matt only wanted a father, someone who would care for him and look out for him when times were tough.

Now, instead of intense sadness, Matt merely felt intense anger at himself and Stick, and also came to the realization that he was completely alone, now more than ever.

When he returned to St. Agnes, things continued as they normally would, albeit easier because now he could control his senses. Still, while at the orphanage, he remained alone, not even attempting to start friendships with anybody because no one wanted to hang out with the blind kid. He remained alone, either in his room engaged in his studies or sitting on the bench in silence during recess. Some of the nuns came and tried to offer Matt support and kindness, but it just wasn't enough to overcome his deep-rooted feeling of isolation.

One day, school had let out for recess sometime around noon, and while the other kids played kickball or tag, Matt sat alone on the swings, moving his fingers across the braille text of his book. It was a book on Thurgood Marshall, whom he had come to idolize for his belief in the justice system, and how every citizen deserved the same treatment when it came to a court of law.

 _"In recognizing the humanity of our fellow beings, we pay ourselves the highest tribute."_

Suddenly, Matt tasted salt in the air, and a certain moisture accompanied it. Concerned, he tried pinpointing the location using his hearing, and he heard the barely audible sounds of someone sobbing on the other end of the playground. From what he could tell (no, _knew_ ), the cries were coming from a girl, one who seemed unfamiliar to him. Perhaps she was new here, and that's why she was crying.

Detecting the surrounding area, Matt noticed that no one was trying to comfort her, not even the nuns. She just sat there on the ground, her head buried in her arms. How anyone could sit idle while someone was distressed was beyond him. It just wasn't right.

Matt then closed his book, picked up his cane, and began walking over towards the girl. When he was about two feet away from her, he opened his mouth and asked, "Are you okay?"

Head still buried in her arms, the girl bitterly asked, "Do I look like I'm okay?"

"Uh-" Matt said as the words registered in his mind, "Well, the thing is, uh, well, I can't actually see you."

"What do you-" she began, but as she looked up, she saw Matt's cane and blood-red glasses.

"Oh, I'm so, so sorry! I- I didn't notice!" the girl said, color rushing to her cheeks and her heart rate increasing.

"It's fine, really. Don't apologize, it's okay," Matt reassured her, and the girl stood up, wiping the tears off her face.

"So," Matt began, "Are you alright? Because I heard you crying and thought that I could help."

"No, I'm fine," the girl said, sniffling. She then faced towards Matt, and said, "I don't think I know you. What's your name?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Matt Murdock," he said, extending his hand out to shake.

The girl then hesitantly shook Matt's hand, and then said "Mary Sue Poots. I know, don't laugh."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Matt replied.

"Why? Pretty much everyone else makes fun of it already. Heck, _I_ hate it," Mary Sue scoffed.

"Isn't that the name your parents gave you?" Matt asked.

"No, the orphanage gave me that name. I don't even know who my real parents were," Mary Sue said bluntly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Matt said.

"That's okay, because I don't either," she said, sniffling again, "All I know is that I have this stupid name and I keep having to go from foster home to foster home, never staying in one place for too long because all the families hate me."

"That can't be true, can it?" Matt asked.

"It is," Mary Sue said. "I just got back from this one family, the Brodys, who I hoped would really like me, but then they just send me back here like I'm nothing." She then began crying again.

"I'm so sorry, Mary Sue," Matt said.

"Please, don't apologize, and just call me Mary," she said. Once she regained composure of herself, she said, "Anyway, enough about me, what's your story?"

"Well, when I was nine, I was blinded in a car accident, and a few months later my dad was shot," Matt stated matter-of-factly, "Now I'm here."

Mary's eyes widened at this news, and she said "Oh, God, I'm so sorry."

"Eh, it's fine, I'm over it. The blind part, anyway," he said, giving a sheepish smirk, "But what I found out is that it's best to just move past the bad points in our lives and appreciate the good ones."

"That seems to be a nice outlook on life," Mary said.

Matt then took careful notice as to how, beneath her crying and upset, her voice was soft and genuine, almost like something out of a dream. There was innocence to that voice, in addition to youth, so she must've been around one or two years younger than him. Something about her just seemed so pure that Matt could barely think about much else in that moment, and it was just an odd feeling that overtook him.

"Come on, do you want to go on the swings together? So that you don't have to be alone?" Matt offered.

"Sure," Mary said, going to join him.


	2. Speak of the Devil

"Hey, Daisy," Bobbi called into the room, "Coulson wants you. Says it's urgent."

"Okay, thanks Bobbi," Daisy said, closing her computer, "Hey, have you seen Fitz around? I haven't heard from him since yesterday."

"I think he's just taking some time after... y'know," Bobbi sighed.

"Yeah," Daisy sighed as well, then got up and said, "Well, I guess I'll go speak to the boss now. See ya."

"See ya," Bobbi said as she walked back towards the lab.

* * *

"So, what do you got for me today?" Daisy asked as she walked into the Director's office.

"We have reason to believe that we may have a new Inhuman running around," Coulson answered.

"How come?" Daisy asked.

Coulson raised his screen to show footage of what looked like a man in a black mask fighting with police officers. NYPD, to be exact.

"Whoa," Daisy said as she saw the masked man's impressive fighting style, "Do we have an ID on the subject?"

"Not entirely, but this vigilante was able to beat several armed police officers with his bare hands. That kind of thing is something of concern," Coulson said.

"What other info do we have?" Daisy asked again.

"We now know that the officers in question that were attacked were all corrupt cops under the employ of a man named Wilson Fisk, who was running a criminal syndicate out of Hell's Kitchen," Coulson explained.

"Huh," Daisy said, surprised.

"What?" Coulson asked.

"Nothing, it's just that I grew up in Hell's Kitchen. It really is a shitty place," Daisy remarked.

"No kidding. Okay," Coulson continued, "Fisk was arrested on the charges of racketeering and murder, all within a joint venture with the Russian Mafia, the Yakuza, and the Chinese Triad. Now, he claimed that this masked man, called 'Daredevil' by the press, was the one that was behind the recent bombings in Hell's Kitchen, but it was Fisk all along, and Daredevil exposed him."

"Okay, so what does all this have to do with this 'Daredevil' person?" Daisy asked.

"I think one man being able to bring down three different criminal organizations without any support is an impressive feat, but a suspicious one. We want to look into this individual and see if he could be a potential candidate for the Caterpillars project, or at least just Index him," Coulson said.

"Okay, I think I can do that," Daisy said, "So, how should I proceed?"

"That's up to you. I'm leaving you in charge of this mission, Skye," Coulson said, before correcting himself, "Daisy, sorry. I'm still trying to get used to that."

"It's fine," Daisy said, "And thank you."

"Don't mention it," Coulson replied.

"Okay, so I think the best approach would not be the direct, 'we-are-SHIELD' approach. That might create tension and scare him off probably, making our jobs harder. We could try to locate him through mutual contacts," Daisy suggested.

"Like what?" Coulson asked.

Daisy thought about it for a moment, and asked, "Has Fisk been brought to trial yet?"

"No, but his case is being managed by a few attorneys. One of his men was Detective Carl Hoffman, who testified evidence against Fisk, and he is being represented by Franklin Nelson and Matthew Murdock. Now they-"

Coulson was cut off when Daisy said, "Wait, did you just say 'Matthew Murdock?'"

"Yes, why?" Coulson asked.

Daisy gasped and covered her mouth at the conformation, and then exclaimed, "Oh, my God, I used to know him."

"What?" Coulson asked, curious.

"I knew Murdock when we were kids! We grew up in the same orphanage together, St. Agnes. I haven't seen him in years!" Daisy chimed.

"Hate to break it to you, but this isn't exactly the time for some high-school reunion," Coulson said, "You need to focus your attention towards finding Daredevil."

"No, wait, just hear me out. This can provide us with the opportunity we need. Now, you said that Murdock was working in the case against Fisk, right?" Daisy inquired.

"Yes," Coulson answered, "Apparently, he also worked against Fisk prior to his exposure in the Armand Tully tenement case, which was ultimately closed due to the death of the client that Nelson & Murdock were representing."

"What I'm trying to say is that these lawyers already had been working against Fisk, and that was even before the bombings took place, right?" Daisy asked, "If this Daredevil guy had been trying to expose Fisk around the same time as them, then it's possible that the firm exchanged information with Daredevil."

"That is a possibility, but it's a tremendous longshot. For all we know, they've probably never interacted with each other, and it was just sheer coincidence," Coulson pointed out.

"But just think about it: Murdock already knows and trusts me, so this could be the perfect opportunity to try and locate Daredevil. I just have to ease my way in, and maybe he'll know something. If we have Murdock, we have Daredevil. All without another mess, and HYDRA probably won't even notice," Daisy finished.

"Fair point," Coulson said, "So, you'll do this how?"

"Easy: just me. No SHIELD, no guns, I probably won't even need my laptop. If I'm lucky, I won't need to use my powers," Daisy said.

"Alright then, Skye- er, Daisy, you may proceed at the earliest possible convenience," Coulson said.


	3. A Chance Meeting

Daisy walked through the streets of New York, suitcase in hand, taking in the surrounding area of her home city. She hadn't been here for almost... what had it been? Ten years? The place hadn't changed a bit. Despite the fact that a full-scale alien invasion took place over three years ago, people still went about their daily routines, navigating the crowded streets in an attempt to simply move on with their lives. Daisy found it to be quite odd how things could be so normal when the entire world has seen the supernatural time and time again. Norse gods from another galaxy had come to Earth, and people still worry about board meetings and rent. Though, she supposed that the world had gotten so used to the phenomena by now that it became pretty routine. Hell, she could attest to the fact that she was a walking San Andreas and still found enjoyment in things like playing Halo with Mack.

Daisy began making her way towards Midtown West, which was just the term that politicians and real-estate agents use for Hell's Kitchen. She knew what it was like at it's heart. Even though the orphanage was relatively safe, the neighborhood itself was really rough. It wasn't wise for kids to go wandering by themselves for fear of them never coming home. The place was crawling with poverty, gangs, and drugs, and it was near impossible to avoid any of it on any day of the week. It was a washed-up sewer of a place that criminal organizations decided to take refuge in after their decline of power and the rise of street gangs. Sirens ran almost every night, and at least one person from the area ended up in the weekly obituaries.

And she had returned looking for the one person who was trying to make it a better place.

She packed relatively light for her mission. Her suitcase consisted of spare clothes and a few toiletries, along with a few pieces of SHIELD tech that Fitz and Bobbi had advised she bring along, including an ICER if things got out of hand (she chose not to bring a real gun because that would do her more harm than good). Also, Fitz and Bobbi had designed a new, specialized combat-suit for her, which was lighter and more flexible than her previous one, in addition to helping her channel her powers more accurately through specialized metal gauntlets. Privately, she noted that it looked similar to that of Natasha Romanoff's outfit, and she couldn't help but geek out that she now had a legit superhero suit.

Daisy knew these streets like the back of her hand, but she had some difficulty in finding _Nelson & Murdock_. For one, it had been quite some time since she traversed these streets last. For another, she was taking her time in actually going to the firm in order to work on her alibi, which at this point was sketchy at best.

 _What am I supposed to say? "Hi, Matt! It's me, Skye! Sorry I haven't talked to you in the past ten years, I was just too busy being a SHIELD agent, discovering my parents were psychos, and dealing with my half-alien earthquake superpowers! By the way, my name's Daisy now and I decided to drop by so I can see if you have a connection with a guy who dresses like the Devil and beats people up with his bare hands!_ _"_

Cross that, it was insane at best.

Lost in her own thoughts, Daisy failed to notice the man walking the opposite direction of her in time, and they accidently collided into each other and fell to the ground.

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry!" Daisy apologized, getting up off the ground.

"No problem," the man said, "I'm a bit of a klutz myself."

The man, Daisy noticed, was wearing a casual business suit with a salmon shirt and red tie, which was now covered in what looked like spilled coffee.

"Aw, dammit..." the man uttered, pulling a handkerchief out from his jacket pocket in an attempt to clean out the stains.

"Should've brought my Tide-To-Go today," he quipped, rubbing his shirt.

"Listen, I am so sorry this happened," Daisy said, "Look, I'll pay for those to get cleaned-"

"It's fine, really," the man protested, "It was just an accident, I completely understand."

The man stood a few inches taller than Daisy, and he was also a little portly and sported a slightly unkempt mullet.

"Besides, I'll be fine for today," he sheepishly replied, "Good news is my partner can't see it..."

 _Can't see it? What does that mean?_

Before Daisy could verbally ask, the man had said, "I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Foggy Nelson."

Foggy extended his hand for the woman to shake.

As she shook his hand, Daisy came to a realization and asked, "Nelson? As in _Nelson & Murdock?"_

"The one and only," Foggy replied, grinning, "If you need any legal help this side of town, we're the lawyers to call."

 _So this is Nelson? Well Matt, I hope you made the right decision by going into business together._

"What's your name?" Foggy asked, breaking the handshake.

Daisy realized she forgot to return the courtesy, and she hastily replied, "Daisy. Daisy Johnson, sorry."

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Ms. Johnson, but I'm afraid I'm running late for work. Take care," Foggy said before resuming his walk.

"Wait!" Daisy called after him, whereupon he stopped in his tracks and turned his head, "I actually do need some legal help."

"Really?" Foggy asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, I was looking for your firm just now," Daisy added, "Maybe you could help me get there?"

Foggy's eyes lit up in excitement, and he strode over to Daisy and said, "Well, sure thing! Anything for a potential client, especially the hot ones..."

"What?" Daisy asked, taken aback.

"Erm, nothing!" Foggy replied with a sheepish laugh, "Okay, let me show you the way, Ms. Johnson."

"Please, Mr. Nelson, call me Daisy," she said.

"Please, call me Foggy," he replied.

* * *

 **R/R please! It really helps! -Spent**


	4. Reunion

_"Can I ask a personal question?" Karen began, buttoning her shirt._

 _Matt, who had already walked over to the counter, took a coffee mug, began filling it with coffee, and replied, "I haven't always been blind."_

 _Karen felt slightly embarrassed, for her cheeks began to show color._

 _"I guess that's what everyone wants to know," Karen said._

 _As Matt traversed with ease while holding both coffee mugs, he said, "That or, 'How do you comb your hair?'"_

 _"How do you comb your hair?" Karen asked._

 _"Honestly, you just- You hope for the best," Matt answered, smirking and holding a mug out to her._

 _"Thank you," Karen said, taking the mug._

 _"You wanna sit?" Matt offered._

 _Karen was just about to nod, but thought better of it and sat down on the sofa, with Matt sitting next to her._

 _"How did it happen?" she asked._

 _"Car accident," he answered, taking a sip, "When I was nine."_

 _"Must've been rough," Karen said._

 _"No, I made it through," Matt reassured her._

 _Karen paused, not knowing where she should take this next, and then asked, "Do you remember what it was like... to... to see?"_

 _"I, um..." Matt stuttered for a moment, finding his thoughts, "Yes, I remember."_

 _"I can't- I can't imagine what that must be like," Karen sighed, taking a sip._

 _Matt gave off a very low chuckle, and then he decided he was just going to open up to her. Maybe it was because she might tell him something about Union Allied, maybe it was because it was something very important to him, or something. Any way, he removed his glasses, set down his mug, cleared his throat, and began to speak._

* * *

"And here we are," Foggy said, opening the door to the law firm, " _Nelson & Murdock: Attorneys at Law_."

"Wow," Daisy complimented, looking around the firm. Though it was pretty barren, she still found admiration that Matt was able to make a reputation for himself after all. Now, he could live his life doing what he loved: helping people with their problems. It was a trait he had had since childhood, and Daisy couldn't be happier for him.

Though, there was a fear that Daisy had that she couldn't shake. It was the fear that Matt wouldn't even remember her after all this time. Seemed likely, supported by the fact that he was blind and couldn't possibly use memory of sight. Then, there was also another fear, and that was that he _would_ remember her. If he did remember, was he over it by now? It'd certainly been long enough; he'd probably let it go at this point. But what if he didn't? How would she deal with that?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Foggy said, "I know. Pretty spiffy, right?"

"Uh, well-" Daisy began.

"That was a rhetorical question, sorry," Foggy interrupted, "We're too busy trying to keep the lights on that we haven't invested in décor, and since my partner has no use for either of those utilities, I'm kinda stuck in the mud here."

"It's a fine establishment you have here, Mr. Nelson. I don't mind at all," Daisy said.

"I already told you, call me Foggy," Foggy reminded, "I only use that name either in the courtroom or with people I don't like."

"Okay then, Foggy," Daisy said, and then she asked, "Is there a story behind that name?"

"Well, my real name is Franklin, but- you know what? This story actually sounds better coming from my partner. Ask him when he gets here," Foggy suggested, "Is there a story behind 'Daisy?'"

"Oh, you have _no_ idea," Daisy said, the pure irony of the question nearly making her laugh.

"Wanna talk about it?" Foggy asked.

"Not really," Daisy replied.

"So," Foggy began, sitting on the reception desk and twiddling his thumbs, "what was it that you said you needed help with?"

"Oh," Daisy said, caught off guard, "well, I, um..."

Whatever excuse Daisy was going to think up at that moment was brushed aside when the door behind her opened and closed again. She turned around, and the first thing she noticed was the man's simple, grey suit and plain-black tie. She next noticed the walking stick that was being held in his hands, with the red color adorning the bottom. Her eyes then went upward to the man's face, where she saw his scruffy stubble, slightly unkempt hair, simplistic face, and a bruise on the left side of his face that seemed like it was recent. Most striking, however, was the sight of his blood-red glasses that hid his unseeing eyes.

"Sorry I'm late, Foggy. I was just having some... difficulty getting up this morning. Who's this?"

* * *

 _"You know, I'm supposed to say I don't miss it..."_

* * *

Daisy was at a loss for words. Part of her couldn't breathe, another part of her wanted to scream (whether it was from joy or shock she did not know), and another part was trying its damndest to make sure her heartbeat stayed in check before the whole block started shaking. Either way, she couldn't believe that he was here, standing in front of her, at this very moment in time.

* * *

 _"That's what they teach you in trauma recovery..."_

* * *

He was here, in the flesh. Daisy didn't know what to do or what to say. It all just came in at once.

"It's fine, buddy. I think we may have another potential client on our hands today," Foggy said, "Ms. Johnson, I'd like you to meet-"

"Matt?"

Daisy just blurted it out without even thinking.

* * *

 _"Define yourself by what you have..."_

* * *

"Um," Matt began, "do I know you?"

Daisy tried to get the words out, but she found out that she couldn't say anything. Her mouth was dry and tasted like sandpaper.

"Matt, is that you?" she finally managed to say.

"Um, yes?" Matt answered matter-of-factly, "Who are you?"

 _He doesn't remember?_

"It's- it's me. Remember my voice?" Daisy asked.

"Nothing's coming to mind," Matt answered honestly, listening as her pulse increased every second and she started to shake slightly, "What's your name?"

Daisy then tried to find a way to let him find out without her explicitly telling him, so she said something that only he would know.

"Remember Thurgood Marshall? _We must dissent from the indifference. We must dissent from the apathy. We must dissent from the fear."_

Matt's throat became dry, and the grip on his cane became tighter. How did this woman know about that? The only people he ever talked about that with were Foggy and...

 _Could it be?_

* * *

 _"Value your differences, make no apologies for what you lack..."_

* * *

Matt slowly walked forward, outstretching his arm towards the woman. Daisy knew what he was trying to do, so she grabbed hold of his arm and brought it to her face. Then, slowly, he traced his fingers around every discernable feature they could find.

* * *

 _"And it's all true, for the most part..."_

* * *

When he was finished, Matt's fingers went back along his side, and he stood, mouth agape, for a few minutes in awkward silence. Even though he couldn't see, he knew exactly who was standing in front of him, as well as the fact that he knew she was staring back at him.

* * *

 _"But it doesn't change the fact that..."_

* * *

Matt gulped, stepped closer to her, and let his cane drop to the floor. Daisy came closer as well, placing her own hand on the unharmed side of his face. Matt shuddered, and then asked the question that he wasn't sure he was supposed to ask.

"Skye?"

"It's me, Matt. It's me," she answered, tears welling up in her eyes.

Matt tasted the familiar salt in the air, and his eyes became full of tears as well.

"I- I missed you," Matt quivered.

"I know, I did too," Daisy trembled, "but I'm here now. I'm here."

The two embraced for seconds, or was it minutes? Hours? Neither were certain. It felt like an eternity to both, and neither of them wanted to let go of the other. They had found each other at last.

* * *

 _"I'd give anything to see the sky one more time."_

* * *

Foggy stands idly by, not having any clue as to what's going on.

* * *

 **R/R please! It really helps! -Spent**


	5. Commuting Again

Daisy slowly pulled away from the embrace, gazing into Matt's features, looking for the resemblance to the boy she once knew. Despite all the years that had gone by, the stubble, and the visible marks of injury on his face, she knew that this was her best friend standing before her.

"God, how long has it been?" Matt asked.

"It's going on ten years, I think," Daisy replied, "It's so good to see you."

"Well, you know me," Matt smirked, "I never have."

Daisy chuckled, "Same old Matt Murdock, always with the blind quips."

Matt's face broke into a grin and he laughed, seemingly at ease.

"Anything to make a certain Mary Sue Poots laugh," Matt joked.

Daisy lightly pushed his shoulder, saying "Oh, hush you," while grinning.

"Ahem," Foggy broke the conversation between the two, "Sorry to break up the moment here, but could I talk to you for a minute, Matt?"

"Sure thing," Matt replied, then turned to Daisy, saying, "Sorry about this, I'll be back in a few, okay?"

"Okay," Daisy said, "I'll wait right here."

Foggy and Matt then made their way into the conference room and closed the door.

"Uh, Matt? Who is she?" Foggy asked.

"That's Skye," Matt answered, "We grew up in the same orphanage together as kids. She was my best friend. My only friend, actually."

"Oh," Foggy responded, "Why am I just now hearing about her?" he asked with a hint of attitude to his voice.

"Come on, this isn't some big secret that I've kept from you like my 'other life,'" Matt scoffed.

"Then what is it?" Foggy asked.

"It's... personal," Matt stated.

"Personal," Foggy repeated, "So what, were you guys like a thing or something? Because you guys were getting all touchy-feely back there."

"Um..." Matt began, but his uncertainty was all that Foggy needed to connect the dots.

"Holy shit, you were!" Foggy exclaimed, his eyes widening, "Why did you never mention her? She is smoking, man. Though I suppose you already knew that."

"Like I said, it's personal," Matt said, his expression turning serious, "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Okay, sorry for bringing it up," Foggy apologized.

"Nah, it's fine," Matt replied.

"So," Foggy began, "she came in here asking for legal help before you arrived. Something tells me that that's not what she was really here for."

"Oh?" Matt asked, intrigued.

"Yeah," Foggy answered, "She also said her name was 'Daisy Johnson.' I'm not sure if that means anything to you, but you had called her 'Mary Sue Poots' a little bit ago. Anything you'd like to add?"

"Well, 'Mary Sue Poots' was the name the orphanage gave her, and she hated it with a passion," Matt stated, "Maybe she got it legally changed or something."

"What about 'Skye?'" Foggy asked, "You called her that too. Why didn't she give me that name?"

"I don't know," Matt said, "That was the name she always went by. I'll ask her."

"Hey, I'll tell you what," Foggy began, "I'll hold down the fort here, and you can go spend some time with her."

"What?" Matt asked, "You'd do that?"

"Sure, man," Foggy said, "I think it's pretty obvious she came here to see you, so go. I bet the two of you got some catching up to do."

"I don't know what to say. Thanks, Foggy," Matt said, "Wait, what're you gonna tell Karen? She's gonna be suspicious."

"I'll come up with something. Now go," Foggy insisted.

"I owe you one, buddy," Matt said.

"That you do," Foggy grinned.

Matt exited the conference room, whereupon Daisy stood up from the chair she was sitting in.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, everything's fine," Matt answered, "Hey listen, um, do you want to go get a cup of coffee with me?"

"Don't you have to work?" Daisy inquired.

"My partner's gonna be taking care of things while I'm gone," he said.

"In that case, let's go," Daisy said as Matt picked up his cane. As the two exited the firm and began to make their way onto the street, Matt asked, "What made you decide to come and visit after all these years?"

"I wanted to see you," Daisy answered, and Matt could tell that she was telling the truth, "I had heard you had set up your own practice, so I decided to drop by. You know, I'm not really surprised that you chose to become a lawyer."

"And why is that?" Matt asked, tapping his cane along the pavement.

"Because you love helping people. Always have," she said.

Matt grinned, simultaneously thinking about both his profession and his nighttime activities.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Matt asked.

"Well," Daisy began, "you could say I'm a government worker."

Matt laughed, "You? You of all people decided to work for the government? The one person who distrusts government more than anyone else I know?"

"It's not really as bad as you might think, actually," Daisy said, "There's a lot of bad people involved, but it's the good ones that matter."

"I take it you're one of the good ones, then?" Matt asked.

"Yep," Daisy replied, "At least I think I am."

"You've changed," Matt stated flatly, and Daisy nearly shuddered at the truth of that statement. She had changed. A lot. In more ways that she could've ever imagined possible.

"We all do," Daisy said, "The world has definitely changed."

"I'll say," Matt responded, "What, we got giant green monsters, super soldiers coming back from the dead, and an alien invasion? This place is turning into an insane asylum."

"You forgot to mention the Norse gods," Daisy added.

"There's only one God, Skye," Matt stated.

"Matt Murdock, ever the Catholic," Daisy jokingly mocked. The two laughed, and then they continued walking toward their destination in silence for a few moments. Daisy broke the silence by saying, "It's Daisy, actually."

"Hmm?" Matt said.

"My name is Daisy," she repeated.

"'Daisy'... is that your legal name?" Matt asked.

"It's the one my parents gave me; Daisy Johnson," she had said, her tone becoming a little somber.

Matt stopped walking for a moment and asked, "You found your parents?"

"In a way," she said, also stopping their walk momentarily, "They were nothing like I had expected, but they were there."

"How were they?" Matt asked.

"I, um-" Daisy began, but she wasn't exactly sure of what to say. Was she going to tell him about Cal and Jiaying? About her Inhuman origin? Afterlife? SHIELD? The war against HYDRA? Any of that?

"My mom died and my dad lost his mind," she finally said aloud, feeling her cheeks turn red at the memory of how her mother had tried to kill her, and how her father was forced to step in and save her by killing his wife.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Matt said, "I- I don't know what to say."

"It's fine," Daisy said, wiping her tears on her jacket sleeve, "It happened a while ago anyway."

The walk to the coffee shop continued on for a few minutes in sullen silence, when Matt decided to break the tension by saying, "So, 'Daisy'... that's what you go by now, huh?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"That's gonna take some getting used to for me. I always liked 'Skye,'" Matt said.

"Daisy's my name, but you can still call me Skye if you like," she said, "After all, you're the one who picked it out for me."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! SUPER sorry about the long hiatus! Life got in the way unfortunately, but I'm back and I'm going to continue this story! I'm not sure when I'm going to upload the next chapter, but I'm here to say that the story is not dead at all! It's very much alive, and I want to thank you all for all of your continued support! You guys are the best! Until next time, be sure to read, review, and stay classy!**

 **-Spent**


	6. Reminiscions and Rooftops

"This is a spot I've always liked," Matt said as they entered through the door that led onto the roof of St. Agnes.

"Are we allowed to be up here?" Mary questioned, "I'm not sure that that the nuns would tolerate this."

"Oh, they sure wouldn't, but they don't know we're up here, do they?" Matt replied with a grin.

Observing her surroundings, Mary saw that there was little more to the roof than a couple of ventilation ducts and drainage pipes. She had no idea why Matt had brought her up here.

"Sometimes I like to be up here, listening to the cars roll by down below, or maybe just listening to the rain," Matt mused, "It's not exactly quiet, but it is relaxing."

"Don't you ever get lonely up here?" Mary inquired.

"Eh, not really," Matt answered, "I kinda like the isolation. Helps me to think. You know, being blind, you tend to catch yourself reacting to every little thing you hear, but up here, I only listen to what I choose to."

Matt exhaled, and sat atop of one of the ducts, his cane resting against the side.

"Still," he continued, "it wouldn't kill to have company every now and again."

Mary hopped up onto the duct and sat next to Matt.

"Well, you got me," she said, smiling.

"Sure do," Matt grinned, "So, um, if it's not too much to ask, how many foster homes have you been to?"

Mary sighed, and then Matt quickly apologized, saying, "Sorry, that's too much of a personal question."

"No, it's fine," she began, "It's just that I lost count."

Looking down, she then said, "For the life of me, I don't know why I've been sent back so many times. I do the best I can do to behave."

Matt listened and heard her heartbeat, and it was moving a little too fast for her to be honest.

"Is that entirely true?" he asked.

"Well, granted, the last family I was with shouldn't have left an open bottle of scotch on the kitchen counter, so... there's that."

Matt laughed, and Mary said, "I regretted it afterwards, mostly because-"

"It burns?" Matt finished.

"How did you know?" Mary asked, surprised.

Matt cleared his throat, and then said "Back before I lost my sight, my dad would come home every odd night with cuts and bruises on his face. He was a fighter. Old-school, boxer."

"Your dad was a boxer?" Mary asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Matt answered, "Famous one. Battlin' Jack Murdock, they used to call him."

He slightly choked up on his words at the end, but then continued, saying, "One time he came home from a fight, I had to stitch his face, and he didn't want my hands shaking, so he gave me a sip of his scotch. My God, the taste was horrible."

Mary laughed, "Really? That is so funny!" Matt joined her in laughing.

"Look at us, both drinking scotch way before we're legally allowed to!" Mary said.

"I'm sure the nuns wouldn't be happy if they knew about that," Matt joked.

"Yeah," Mary continued, "I bet we'd have to go to confession until we became adults."

The two friends laughed together for a few moments, and once it stopped, Mary looked upwards to see the sky above her. There were a few birds flying by, their reflections being present on the nearest skyscraper with the sun beaming against it. The sky itself was a brilliant shade of blue, giving the atmosphere a calming and relaxing presence.

As she was marveling at the simplistic beauty of the sky, it dawned upon her that Matt couldn't see what she was seeing. He had already told her about how he became blind, and that he didn't want pity from anybody, but she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Sorry that he would never be able to experience the wonders of sight for the rest of his life.

Matt sensed her change of mood, and decided to break the ice by saying, "You know, I am over it now. Being blind."

Mary turned to face her friend, whereupon he continued.

"I know it's not coming back, it never will. But I'm not making any apologies for it. I don't blame the company that made the chemicals, the engineer that put in the breaks, the driver that couldn't make them work, or the old man who crossed the street when he did. What happened, happened. I can't change it, but what I can do is try to live the rest of my life the best I can."

Mary put her arms around his torso, hugging him so hard he could've sworn he was going to bust a rib.

"It's fine, I don't really need your sympathy," Matt said, being careful not to sound harsh.

"I know," Mary began, releasing him from her grip, "It's just, well, that- I can't imagine not being able to see the world around you."

"I get what you mean," Matt said.

"What do you miss the most about being able to see?" Mary asked.

Matt pondered for a moment, and then he said, "Colors. I can make out the shape and texture of things I touch, but color isn't something you can feel or smell or taste. It's mostly just guesswork."

Matt sighed again.

"But it would be just fine if I couldn't see any colors," he began, "only if I could see the sky one more time."

Matt momentarily dwelled on the harsh reality of his life, but Mary saw this and attempted to lighten the mood by saying, "And I thought I had it bad with my crappy name."

They both laughed, but an idea suddenly burst inside of Matt's mind, something that would be absolutely perfect.

He hadn't known Mary long, but there was something about her that just made Matt feel all these little emotions that made him feel so good, something he didn't think was possible. What he also recognized was that he would never be able to (truly) see her, and while that brought him much grief, it gave him the most brilliant idea. Something else he desperately wants to see but can't.

"Skye," he said.

"Huh?" Mary asked.

"Skye," Matt repeated, "That can be your name. You know, with an 'e' at the end."

Mary grinned, repeating the name over and over again in her head. It sounded so right to her.

"Skye," she said, "I like the sound of that. Infinitely better than Mary Sue Poots."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so, SO sorry about this! I thought I would have more time to do this, but a combination of a busy schedule and severe writer's block got in the way. Anyway, just a quick reminder that this story is still alive! DO NOT WORRY! Thanks so much for all the continued support; you guys are terrific troopers! Until next time, be sure to read, review, and stay classy!**

 **-Spent**


	7. Coffee Chatter

Matt and Daisy made their way to a diner that was about four blocks away from the offices of _Nelson & Murdock. _They both sat down at opposite ends of the booth, making themselves comfortable in the leather-bound seats.

"I don't think I remember this place being here," Daisy remarked to Matt as her eyes wandered around the establishment, making note of the cleanliness of the place and the people at the counter enjoying their breakfast, "Was it?"

"It was built around two years ago, I believe," Matt answered, "A whole lot of property got destroyed in this part of town during the Incident. I think this used to be a laundromat or something, I dunno. Real shame if you ask me."

"Yeah," Daisy said apathetically, taking off her jacket and setting it down beside her. A few moments later, a waitress came by and asked the pair of them what they wished to order.

"Coffee's good," Matt told the waitress.

"Same. I'll have a cup myself," Daisy inserted afterwards.

"'Kay then," the waitress replied, "I'll be back in a few."

As the waitress walked away, Daisy directed her attention back at Matt, who she noticed had started to fumble around with one of the creamers from the tray by the window.

"Remember what we used to do as kids?" Matt asked with a devilish grin on his face, pulling the cover off the top of the creamer. Daisy smiled because she recalled this childhood antic very well.

"Sneaking into Sister Beatrice's room and stealing all of her creamers?" Daisy reminisced at the memory that brought amusement to her.

"And then drinking straight out of them later without putting them in coffee?" Matt continued, and the two of them laughed.

"You know, apparently that's supposed to be really bad for you," Daisy remarked, her smile still as wide as before.

"Is it now?" Matt asked rhetorically as he drank out of the creamer like he would a shot of whiskey.

"Oh Murdock, your standards for 'badboy' were _unprecedented,_ you know that?" Daisy teased, opening the top off of another creamer from the tray and drinking straight from it. After she finished, she set it down on the table with an audible thud.

"What can I say? I'm a bad man," Matt smirked.

"Yeah, says the man who's probably only ever broken like three commandments in his life," Daisy teased yet again.

Matt was about to give Daisy a response to her question, but by then the waitress had returned with their coffee and went on her way. Afterwards, the pair of them started to put cream and sugar into their warm beverages and stirred until the dark brown color became a lighter shade.

The both of them took a sip from each of their drinks, and the reaction was different, even if they didn't make it known to each other. Matt's taste buds had always had a more refined taste to them, and he knew that the coffee was some cheap store-bought brand originating from Guatemala or somewhere nearby; he preferred specialty artisan blends that he would pick up whenever he got the chance.

Daisy had a different reaction to the coffee. It wasn't just because she didn't have Matt's enhanced senses that she could pick up on the subtle nuances of "quality," but she never not liked diner coffee. It was simple and it was nice, and that's all she cared for. She didn't care for all the trendy blends they made at Starbucks, even if she did spend long periods there on their Wi-Fi and needed a pick-me-up to keep her going.

"So," Matt said, setting his coffee down for a moment, "What's new in the life of Ms. I-hate-but-I-work-for-Big-Brother?"

"Oh, ha, ha," Daisy answered, "I already told you before that it isn't all that bad. Am I still distrustful of government and it's overreach? Of course I am. But I trust myself to make the right calls when I need to."

"Don't get me wrong, I trust your judgment. It just seems massively out-of-character for you. You would never shut up about cover-ups and elections and yada, yada, yada." Matt said, shaking his head from side to side, "It's like someone killed the real you and replaced you with a robotic look alike." There was a brief pause, "You're not, are you?"

Daisy laughed, and then said "Of course not, don't be silly."

"Just making sure," Matt raised his hands defensively, "Can't be too careful these days, am I right?"

"No, I suppose not," Daisy answered, and then she looked out the window to see people walking down the street, going about their lives uninterrupted by the chaos of the city.

"I mean, I'm guessing it's a dream come true for you, right?" Matt asked, "All these new superheroes and such popping up everywhere?"

Daisy turned her head at this change of conversation. She just remembered her mission. The reason she was back in New York in the first place. Her attention was piqued in Matt's direction, eager about what he had to say next.

However, Matt had noticed Daisy's sudden change of focus. Her heartbeat started to move faster than it had before, and her eyes were more open as he felt her gaze upon him. He didn't anticipate such an engaged response from her on this matter.

"Oh yeah, it's very cool," Daisy said to Matt with honesty, "It's just like a comic book, except... not. Right?"

"Yeah I suppose so," Matt said, "I mean, we got Iron Man, Captain America, Daredevil..."

"Daredevil?" Daisy asked, downplaying her knowledge of Hell's Kitchen's local vigilante in front of him. She hated having to keep secrets from him, but it was part of the job.

"I don't think I've heard of him. Who's he?" Daisy asked.

Matt knew something was off. It was something in her voice, something that felt... insincere. He didn't know what it was, but Daisy seemed to have a particular interest in Daredevil, and he didn't know why.

"Oh, it's a neat little story, I have to say..."

As Matt began to tell Daisy about himself in the third-person, unbeknownst to either of them, a black SUV with tinted windows sat parked outside of the diner.

* * *

 **A/N: HOWDY-F******G-HO! I know it's been like, what, almost two years since I last updated this (8/17/16 to be precise), but I told everyone that the story was not dead, and I am living up to my word. My word is my bond. I apologize for all the delays, setbacks, excuses, etc., so yeah. The reason I stopped writing is because I just lost interest and didn't feel like continuing because I didn't think there was that much demand, but alas, I underestimated my audience and the fandoms of both Agents of SHIELD and Daredevil. I realized that not only had I forgotten how much I had wanted to write this fic in the first place, but how much other people seemed to love it despite my infrequent posts and under-10,000 word count, so I have to say thank you to each and every one of you. I wouldn't have been motivated to continue this if it weren't for you. I promise that more is to come, but only after I've finished my retelling of the fifth Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Afterwards, I will completely dedicate myself to finishing this story so that all of you may enjoy it. Again, I apologize for the many, many, MANY months of delay. I also apologize in advance for the potentially shoddy-quality of the writing; I wrote this in an afternoon.**

 **Thanks for the massive support for something I didn't think would go far, and, as I used to say, stay classy!**

 **\- Spent**


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